


back and forth from new york (sneaking in your bed)

by lazyfish



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: (Spoiler: Not Actually a One Night Stand), F/M, FaceTime Sex, One Night Stands, Phone Sex, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:20:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29644995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyfish/pseuds/lazyfish
Summary: Jemma Simmons learns she isn’t much good at one night stands.
Relationships: Lance Hunter/Jemma Simmons
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	back and forth from new york (sneaking in your bed)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LibbyWeasley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibbyWeasley/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Libby! As you know I am not much good at mushy gushy feelings (except for the fictional kind), but I hope you know today and every day I appreciate our friendship and everything you do for both me and the fandom Thanks for giving me another excuse to write these idiots in love <3

Jemma Simmons was a woman on a mission.

A sex mission.

Before she’d left for New York City and the biggest biochemistry conference of the year, she and her best friend had spent literal hours debating the merits of the one-night stand. Daisy said it was sexually empowering and a great way to learn what she liked in bed, and Jemma didn’t actually have any refutation for those points - other than that she was wont to get attached to anyone she had sex with, and it seemed difficult to have a one-night stand with those attachment issues in mind.

Daisy had suggested having casual sex with someone in New York City, literally across the country from her home in Seattle, as a remedy for the situation. She wouldn’t be tempted to see the person again because they’d be so far away, and there was absolutely no chance of accidentally seeing them on the street and getting horribly embarrassed. 

It wasn’t actually a bad idea - except for now, faced with the task of actually picking a sexual partner, Jemma was having some difficulty. Practically everyone else in the hotel bar was also attending the conference she was at, which meant she couldn’t have sex with them without risking later professional interaction. The only person who didn’t seem to be affiliated with biochemistry in some way was the bartender, and that was a level of cliche that made Jemma uncomfortable.

It was also entirely possible she was uncomfortable because the bartender was _very_ attractive and thinking about having sex with him made her panties damper than they ought to be in polite company. 

His constant flirting wasn’t helping the situation, either. Jemma had no doubt the flirting was a part of his job, but regardless his dimpled smile and easy laugh was difficult to ignore. She did her best to encourage his flirtation by using her own admittedly abysmal flirting skills in response. He didn’t seem to mind that she sometimes tripped over her words or blushed bright red when she made an innuendo.

The hour grew later and the bar grew emptier until it was just the two of them and five minutes left until the bar shut down for the night.

“You need another drink?” he asked, nodding to the empty glass in front of her. It had just been water; if Jemma was going to make the decision to sleep with a stranger, she wanted it to be her decision, not alcohol’s. She’d gotten enough of a buzz to dull her overactive brain but then backed off from the alcohol. She didn’t want to go home with someone who would gladly have sex with her while she was intoxicated; Jemma liked her partners with a healthy respect for consent.

“No, thank you.” Jemma considered the bartender carefully. Maybe this had been a bad idea. Even if he had been flirting with her and she had happily been flirting back, it seemed wrong to presume he would actually want to go back to her room with her. “I could use some company, though.”

He paused in wiping down the bartop, eyebrow cocked. “What kind of company?”

“Come upstairs with me and maybe you’ll find out.”

Five minutes later Jemma was pressed against her hotel door, the bartender’s erection grinding against her aching center. On the elevator ride up she’d learned his name was Hunter - and he’d even managed to slip that into the conversation _without_ making a lewd joke about what name she’d be screaming.

Not that Jemma would’ve mind if he had. Hunter had proved rather quickly his talent with his hands wasn’t reserved just for popping open beer tops and flipping glasses, and his talent with his mouth wasn’t reserved just for smiling at and schmoozing with women to make them tip him more. The line of kisses he’d left down her neck still warmed her skin deliciously, and she was looking forward to what his hands could do between her thighs instead of just teasing at the exposed skin of her shoulders.

“I feel like I should clarify I don’t normally shag birds from my bar,” Hunter panted as he began unbuttoning her blouse. 

“What made you change your mind?” Jemma asked. Her mind went a little fuzzy when he unhooked her bra and began playing with her nipples, but she forced herself to focus enough to process his answer.

“You didn’t look like it was a routine.” Hunter rolled one tight nipple between his thumb and forefinger, then bent down to swipe his tongue across the other. “And you’re also quite possibly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, so there’s that.”

Hunter stopped speaking so he could instead lave his tongue across her breast and Jemma whined, reaching between their bodies to unbutton her slacks and drop them to the floor. She should’ve worn a skirt to the bar like she had considered earlier that night - then she wouldn’t have to deal with so many damn buttons.

By the time she had managed to shimmy her slacks off her hips Hunter was kneeling in front of her, his lips slightly parted. 

“Can I?”

“What?” Jemma asked, voice shaking. When she and Daisy had talked about one-night stands Jemma had gotten the impression they involved fast, furious sex that led to an embarrassing morning after. Getting a compliment had already been more than enough to throw her off, and oral…

“I want you in me,” she said instead. Hunter stood and allowed himself to be guided to the bed. Somehow he managed to strip off his shirt one the way there, and Jemma helped him divest himself of his pants. 

“Condoms?” Hunter asked as he pulled down his boxers, cock standing proud.

Jemma opened the bedside drawer and pulled out the box she had bought at the airport. She ripped it open when the tabs on the side became too frustrating and separated one packet from the others.

“There a position you prefer?” Hunter asked, accepting the condom from her and ripping the packet open.

Jemma’s mind went blank when she watched him roll the condom on.

“Jemma?”

“Oh. Um. I prefer to be on top, if that’s alright.” She forced herself not to blush as she continued. “Is cowgirl acceptable?”

“Honestly, love, as long as my cock is inside you I’ll be fine.” Jemma’s heart stuttered at the term of endearment, and she blinked hard to clear the blurriness from her brain. This was a _one-night stand_ , and he was probably just calling her love out of habit. 

“Excellent.” She peeled off her panties, the last barrier between them and being totally naked, before crawling up the bed to straddle Hunter’s thighs. 

He let out a soft hiss when she took his cock in her hand to guide it to her entrance, and Jemma bit her lip. She had always enjoyed when men were vocal during sex, but it was difficult to find someone who indulged her.

“You like that?” she murmured, pumping her hand.

“Christ, yes,” he sighed.

“You’re going to like this even more, then.” Jemma slid herself down the length of Hunter’s cock, biting her lip against the stretch of him inside her. It wasn’t quite to the point of pain, but it had been a long while since anyone or anything had opened her up like this.

It felt _heavenly_.

Most of why Jemma enjoyed being on top was that she got to set the pace, and this time was no different. Hunter’s hands had settled on her hips, helping her lift herself up off his cock before sinking back down again. He didn’t hurry her along, even though Jemma could see his muscles tightening with every deliberately slow movement she made. 

Up… and down. His jaw twitched. Up, and down. His biceps were taut, the muscle standing out in sharp relief even in the dim lighting. 

Up and down. He kept one hand on her hip to steady her but the other slid between her thighs, carefully searching for - Jemma’s eyes slid closed when he pressed the pad of his finger against her clit. Up and down. He circled experimentally and Jemma groaned. She had spent so long just having herself for a partner that anything someone else did felt good for the sheer novelty of it. Up and down. Even better, Hunter wasn’t blundering around or assuming that just because he pushed harder it would feel better.

Upanddown. Jemma was losing her patience with herself, and Hunter wasn’t doing anything to help the situation. Upanddown. He had found a rhythm against her clit that wasn’t anything she had tried before but felt… Jemma bit her lip harder, frustrated at the fog in her brain and how she couldn’t find any words for the sensations coursing through her body.

Upanddownupanddownupanddown. Finally Jemma couldn’t pay attention to anything other than riding Hunter’s cock, the rest of the world melting into an incoherent tangle of color and sound. It didn’t matter, because the rest of the world was not stretching her cunt and flicking her clit and making her whole body sing. Beneath her Hunter was moaning beautifully, his hips driving up to meet her every time she lowered herself down onto him again.

Her thighs were burning but Jemma didn’t care. She was so close to the edge of bliss she could taste it and she wasn’t going to stop now.

She couldn’t say exactly what pushed her over - whether it was another unexpected movement on her clit, a particularly deep thrust that hit the spot inside her that made her see stars, her own body’s need for release, or something else entirely, but no matter the cause Jemma was shattering. She let out a guttural groan, bracing herself on the bed as her cunt pulsed around Hunter.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Hunter whispered into the still air. “Fuck, Jemma, _fuck_.” 

Jemma was barely coherent enough to understand, somehow, that Hunter had finished too and she ought to get off of him. She reached for his cock, squeezing the base so the condom wouldn’t come off when she dismounted him. Hunter’s cock twitched in her hand and she had half a mind to ask him to go another round when she spotted the time.

She needed to be up early tomorrow to catch her flight back to Seattle - there simply wasn’t enough time for more sex. What a disappointment.

\---

When Jemma woke up the next morning Hunter was, predictably, gone. To her surprise, though, there was a number scrawled on the memo pad by the phone, his name written underneath it.

She was at the airport by the time she decided what to do with the information. Shakily, Jemma put the number into her phone and composed a brief text.

 _[Jemma]:_ I thought you said you don’t normally take girls home.

 _[Hunter]:_ I don’t.

 _[Jemma]:_ So you don’t normally give them your phone number, either?

 _[Hunter]:_ Normally I don’t like them enough to see them again.

 _[Jemma]:_ You know I’m from out of town.

 _[Hunter]:_ I know. But if you are ever in this neck of the woods again…

Jemma pressed her legs together reflexively. The sex had been good - better than her vibrator, certainly. She wasn’t going to go across the country for a booty call, though, and she didn’t have any other reason to be in New York City.

 _[Jemma]:_ I’ll let you know.

She turned her phone off not long after when she walked onto the plane, but even then the messages lingered in her mind.

\---

 _[Jemma]:_ Hey, stranger.

It was her first time texting Hunter since she’d left New York, but not the first time thinking about him. He’d crossed her mind more often than she’d like to admit - first when Daisy had asked about what had happened on her trip, which was understandable, but then several times after that as well. Mostly when she was naked, if she was honest, though there had been one time when she and Elena were at a bar together and Jemma had found herself wishing the bartender was Hunter instead.

 _[Hunter]:_ Hey yourself.

 _[Jemma]:_ I’m going to be in NYC next weekend. Fancy meeting up?

 _[Hunter]:_ For dinner, or just dessert?

She pondered the question. Dinner with Hunter would be… interesting. But if she told Daisy she had sex with her one-night stand again, it would probably sound better if it was a two-night stand and not a two-night stand and also dinner. Not that her best friend would judge her either way, but… 

_[Jemma]:_ Just dessert.

Jemma paused, taking a deep breath, before sending another text.

 _[Jemma]:_ I’m there three nights, though, so maybe if you impress me…

 _[Hunter]:_ What, the first time wasn’t impressive enough?

 _[Jemma]:_ Two words: multiple orgasms.

 _[Hunter]:_ Is that a challenge?

 _[Jemma]:_ Yes ;)

She nearly dropped the phone after sending the last text, not sure whether to be horrified with or proud of herself for sexting a stranger. A stranger who, admittedly, had a really nice cock. And really nice arms. And a really nice ass. And -

She needed a cold shower.

\---

“You like that?” Hunter whispered, voice hot in her ear. “Yeah, come on, baby, just like that…”

Jemma gasped as he pushed his thigh further between her legs, her clit sliding against the smooth silk of her underwear as she ground against him.

“Please,” she gasped, fingers tightening in his shoulders as she bucked her hips and sent another flare shooting up her spine. “Oh, God, this feels so fucking good, I just wanna…”

“I know, I know,” Hunter crooned, squeezing her ass comfortingly. “You’ve got it, love, you just have to keep going. Keep grinding on me, keep going…”

Jemma did as she was told, panting raggedly as she moved her hips against Hunter’s thigh. She had thought shagging before they left for dinner together would be enough to sate her, but by the time she’d gotten out of the taxi she couldn’t imagine making it through the meal without cumming in her underwear.

Now she would be cumming in her underwear anyways, but at least it would be on purpose. Hunter had quickly found a back alley to shepherd them both into, and while they hadn’t been willing to fully undress, they’d found a way to still get Jemma’s needs met. Or _almost_ met.

“Hunter…” she breathed. “Hunter, please…” She was so _close_ , her entire body hot and tight and wanting. Jemma felt like she had been on the edge of orgasm for forever, though in reality it had probably been a matter of minutes. 

“You’ve got it,” he repeated. “Just hump my leg like a good little girl.”

Jemma moaned low and loud. She shouldn’t have enjoyed being called a good girl so much, and certainly not by a veritable stranger, but she couldn’t help it if she had a bit of a praise kink. She did as she was told, rutting against Hunter’s thigh until the rubber band inside her finally snapped and she came with a groan.

“Good girl,” Hunter paused as he removed his leg from between hers and pulled down her skirt. “Love to hear you cum, you know that?”

Jemma nodded faintly, wobbling slightly when she let go of Hunter and tried to support her own weight.

“Give it a minute,” Hunter suggested, wrapping his arm around her waist to keep her from toppling over. 

Jemma followed his advice, counting several deep breaths before easing herself away from Hunter again. The second time she tried to stand up on her own was much more successful, and she smoothed her hands down her thighs to get rid of some of the wrinkles in her skirt.

“You ready for dinner?” Hunter said.

“As long as I still get dessert.”

“You’re insatiable.”

“I think you like me that way,” Jemma said with a grin.

\---

Her return to Seattle was much less triumphant the second time around, mostly because of the issue of telling Daisy her one-night stand had turned into a four-night stand (complete with two dinners).

Even worse, though, Jemma came home with a hundred new fantasies and found that her vibrator was dead. It had apparently decided two years of near-daily use was too much for it, and refused to turn on, even when Jemma changed the batteries.

Which left her with the unfortunate situation of being sexually frustrated with no outlet. Jemma had discovered in high school that there was no reliable way for her to make herself orgasm without vibration if she was alone. She could nearly always finish on a partner’s hand, but not her own, and it was horrible.

If she wanted to, Jemma could’ve Googled the nearest sex shop and gotten herself a new toy then and there.

Instead, she plucked her phone off the charger and texted Hunter.

 _[Jemma]:_ Are you at work?

 _[Hunter]:_ No, why?

 _[Jemma]:_ With other people?

 _[Hunter]:_ I’m alone in my flat. Again, why?

 _[Jemma]:_ Care to give me a little help?

 _[Hunter]:_ Help with what?

 _[Jemma]:_ Call and I’ll explain.

Not five seconds later her phone was buzzing with a call, which she immediately accepted.

“Hello,” she said, sinking back down onto her bed.

“Had to say, I’m surprised to hear from you so soon,” Hunter answered. “Or at all.”

“I had fun with you,” Jemma said, dodging Hunter’s unspoken question. “And my vibrator’s broken.”

“Jemma Simmons, is this a booty call?”

“I don’t think it counts as a booty call if you can’t actually come fuck me.”

“A shame for both of us,” Hunter sighed. “But you want to have phone sex?”

“If you’re amenable.”

“What sort of man would I be if I turned down phone sex with the most gorgeous woman in the world?” Hunter asked. 

“So,” Jemma said. “What are you wearing?”

Hunter snorted. “Jem, love, you don’t ask that question unless you know the other person is wearing something sexy.”

“You could lie to me, I’d never know.”

“What do you wish I was wearing, then?” Hunter asked.

Jemma pondered for a moment. She’d seen enough of Hunter’s anatomy to know what would flatter his slim build, but her mind got caught on the version of him that was naked and wouldn’t let go of it.

“Ideally, nothing.”

“Such a romancer,” Hunter laughed into the phone. 

“I think you learned how little I care for romance,” Jemma said.

“Fair.” Hunter paused. “So, did you find out your vibrator was broken before or after you got naked?”

“Before,” Jemma answered, already liking where this line of questioning was going. 

“So are you still fully dressed?” Hunter asked.

“Mm hmm,” Jemma hummed. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Tell you to take off your clothes like a good girl.” Hunter’s voice dropped deliciously. “Unless you want to hump your pillow the way you humped my thigh.”

Jemma moaned into the phone, flashes of that night coming back to her and sending delightful heat crawling under her skin. “I could be persuaded.”

Hunter huffed out a laugh. “Oh, love. Have I ever mentioned I’m a master of persuasion?”

(He hadn’t, but after he talked her to two of the best orgasms of her life, Jemma was inclined to believe him.) 

\---

When Jemma went into work the next morning, the secretary for the building stopped her before she could make it to her office.

“A delivery for you,” she said, settling a box on the desk. Jemma frowned; she wasn’t expecting any deliveries, and she got most of her shipments to her flat and not her office, anyways. There was less of a chance of something getting lost or stolen that way. She accepted the box anyways, squinting at the writing on the label. It was from an online retailer, one she didn’t recognize. 

Curious.

When she was safely settled in her office, Jemma’s first order of business was to slice open the top of the package. Resting on top was a form printed note.

_A message from the person who sent this gift:_

_Open when alone in your bedroom. xoxo LH_

It took Jemma a full thirty seconds to realize LH was Lance Hunter. Learning Hunter wasn’t his first name had been a bit of a shock, and she still couldn’t manage to associate him with the name _Lance_.

 _[Jemma]:_ What’s in the package?

 _[Hunter]:_ It’s a secret

 _[Hunter]:_ I hope sending it to your work wasn’t overstepping

 _[Hunter]:_ I figured finding out where you live was a bit more stalkerish than sending something to the place you told me you work at

 _[Jemma]:_ It’s not a human head, is it?

 _[Hunter]:_ Jem, where would I get a human head?

 _[Jemma]:_ You’re a bartender in New York, I’m sure you know someone!

 _[Hunter]:_ Just text me when you open it, alright?

Jemma agreed and set her phone down so she could get some work done. The package continued to taunt her, but unfortunately she had enough work that she couldn’t devote much brain power to figuring out what on earth Hunter would’ve sent her.

The question returned with a vengeance when she began her commute home, and by the time she got into her bedroom Jemma was almost shaking with anticipation. She flipped open the lid again, setting the note on top to the side, before digging through the packing peanuts to find… another, smaller box.

Jemma lifted it out gingerly, unsure what she was holding until she saw the company name printed on the outside.

It was a vibrator - and an expensive one. Expensive enough that Jemma had never been able to justify getting one for herself, no matter how much she had wanted to.

 _[Jemma]:_ You really didn’t have to do this.

 _[Hunter]:_ If you can’t have me you should at least have something close ;)

 _[Hunter]:_ Really, though. Was it an overstep?

 _[Jemma]:_ No, it wasn’t. Though I’d prefer if in the future you sent things to my home. It’s a good thing I actually read the note before I opened the package all the way.

 _[Jemma]:_ Promise you won’t stalk me if I give you my address?

 _[Hunter]:_ No matter how good of a lay you are I don’t have time to fly across the country to stalk you

 _[Jemma]:_ Comforting.

She sent him another text with her address, and he responded by giving her his. 

_[Jemma]:_ To be clear, I don’t expect you to send me any more sex toys

 _[Hunter]:_ What do you want me to send you? Nudes? :P

 _[Jemma]:_ I do need something to look at while I try out your gift…

 _[Hunter]:_ Dick pic in exchange for video of you using the vibrator?

 _[Jemma]:_ Deal.

Jemma found herself grinning madly when she and Hunter finished their back-and-forth. She’d forgotten just how much fun flirting could be. 

She took the box with the vibrator to the kitchen, humming softly to herself. She could clean it while she waited for Hunter to make good on his end of the promise, and then spend the rest of the night enjoying herself.

\---

Giving Hunter her address was either an excellent choice or a horrible mistake, and a month later Jemma still wasn’t sure which it was. Every Monday evening she had a gift on her doorstep when she came home from work. The first one was a vibrator identical to the other ( _in case it breaks_ , Hunter had written in the attached note), the second was a bottle of the tequila he had served her in the bar the night they met, the third was a Liverpool lingerie set Hunter insisted was a gag gift, and the fourth was a bag of Jelly Babies larger than her head.

Jemma had sent Hunter a cock ring, a book about the history of football, a lab coat, and a case of Crunchies in return, making sure they arrived on Wednesday nights so Hunter had an opportunity to make use of his gift before he started working on Thursday evening.

Honestly, she hadn’t expected Hunter to use her address, but receiving the gifts every week gave Jemma something to look forward to - and then she looked forward to calling him to debrief about the week’s choice so she could order her gift in time to ship by Wednesday.

It was almost like being in a relationship, though Jemma didn’t express that thought to anyone, even Daisy. 

With the increased calls also came increased texting. More often than not they would text each other if they were horny and in need of assistance, but there had been more than one occasion where both of them had struck up a conversation that had nothing to do with sex, and it was… nice, Jemma supposed was the simplest word.

Her phone buzzed, and Jemma wasn’t surprised to see Hunter’s name on the screen anymore.

 _[Hunter]:_ I have an idea, and you have to tell me if it’s bat-brained.

 _[Jemma]:_ Oh dear

 _[Hunter]:_ My folks live about an hour south of Portland. I’m going to be visiting for a weekend for my dad’s birthday

 _[Hunter]:_ I know it’s a bit of a hike, but we could meet halfway?

 _[Jemma]:_ It would be a shame if we were on the same coast and didn’t make use of it

 _[Hunter]:_ My thoughts exactly.

He texted her the details and Jemma giddily added the day they were going to meet into her calendar. It would be strange to see him not in New York, but it would be good to actually _see_ him - and more importantly, touch him. And have him touch her. 

Before she knew it, Jemma was counting down the days.

\---

“Sorry I’m late,” Hunter huffed as he ducked out of his car and swept across the motel parking lot towards Jemma. “I forgot to account for my mum needing to cry about me going back to New York.”

Jemma smiled. “It’s alright. I wasn’t waiting long.” She had spent far too long trying to figure out which of her sets of lingerie to wear for their meeting and had hit a fair bit of traffic along the way as well. Waiting in the motel parking lot hadn’t been a trial, either; in a way it just helped build the anticipation.

“Let’s get ourselves a room, shall we?” Hunter offered her an arm and Jemma took it, smirking to herself. He was about to fuck her into a mattress and here he was treating her like he was a gentleman.

The room was small but meticulously clean, assuaging a few of Jemma’s worries about the location choice. The place had good reviews but she was suspicious of motels in general thanks to the American media’s insistence on portraying them as dens of sin - though Jemma supposed she was going to be sinning quite a lot in the next few hours.

“I have to grab something from the car,” Hunter said once they had both seen the room. “Prepare yourself, yeah?”

Jemma nodded, waiting for the door to slam shut behind him before beginning her preparations. She fished the box of condoms out of her bag - the same box she’d purchased before her and Hunter’s first tryst - and set it on the side table. After she was sure the condoms were accessible, Jemma began making herself accessible as well, peeling off her clothes to reveal the lingerie underneath.

In the end she had decided on simple black lace; it was a classic for a reason, and despite regularly sexting Hunter his preferences in lingerie never came up (except for when he was telling her he _really_ didn’t expect her to wear the Liverpool set). Maybe she’d request he buy her a lingerie set he liked for his next gift to her.

Jemma flushed slightly. Hunter wasn’t her sugar daddy, was he? No. The gifts, other than the vibrator, hadn’t been all that expensive, and even though they were sleeping together on a semi-regular basis Jemma had never felt like Hunter’s gifts were bribes meant to make her want to sleep with him more. If anything the opposite was true, since he had given her a way to pleasure herself when he was gone.

She leaned back against the pillows, waiting for Hunter to come back. When he did he didn’t look at her, just walked past her to the bathroom - presumably to get prepared himself.

“Oh my God.” Jemma’s mouth fell open and her pussy clenched when Hunter walked out of the bathroom… wearing nothing but the lab coat he had sent her.

“Doctor Simmons,” Hunter said, sidling up to the side of the bed. “I think maybe my experiment didn’t quite go correctly.”

“No?” Jemma asked, propping herself up onto her elbows.

“No,” Hunter breathed, leaning down to kiss her. His tongue swept through her mouth and Jemma sank into the kiss, wrapping her hand around the back of his neck. “All my clothes were supposed to disappear,” he murmured against her mouth. “But I’ve still got this bloody lab coat.”

“Keep it on,” Jemma suggested as Hunter climbed onto the bed, rolling on top of her. Every inch of his skin against hers made her feel hot and flushed, but it was his cock resting on her belly that made Jemma wonder if it was possible to overheat with arousal.

“Are you sure, Doctor?” Hunter murmured, tucking a kiss into the underside of her jaw. “You look a little distracted.”

“I’m sure,” Jemma answered, sighing softly when Hunter scraped his teeth against her pulse point.

“This one of your fantasies?” he asked, pushing himself backwards so it was easier for him to trace a line down her sternum, pointedly ignoring her breasts on either side of his hand. “A man in a lab coat fucking you?”

“Not exactly,” Jemma said, swallowing hard. 

“Tell me.” His hand skimmed down further, further, until it was resting on the waistband of her panties.

“The closest one I have is you coming to my office,” Jemma said. Hunter’s hands dipped beneath the waistband, but didn’t move any further. “You lock the door and fuck me on my desk.”

“We need to work on your fantasies, love,” Hunter said. His fingers slid down lower and Jemma sighed gustily when he found her clit and began massaging it gently. “Or at least your dirty talk. Don’t know what your office is like. How big is your desk? Do you want me to bend you over to fuck you against it or would you rather be taken on top? Is anyone else around to hear you or can you be as loud as you want?”

Each new question brought a new wave of possibilities and Jemma whimpered.

“Do you want to hear what I think about when I think about you and work?” Hunter asked, pausing his ministrations on her clit to circle her entrance with his fingers.

“Mm hmm.”

“It’s ten minutes after close. There’s a man at the bar - in his fifties, businessman type, doesn’t give a damn about other people’s time - who’s been talking my ear off for an hour. I let him because he’s been buying top-shelf whiskey all night and he’s going to give a fantastic tip.” Hunter slid one finger inside her and Jemma bit back a yelp of surprise. He was going to fingerfuck her while talking to her in that smooth, serene voice like they were just chatting in a coffee shop, and it was going to wreck her.

“You’ve been behind the bar all night, at first to help with drinks but then because you asked me if we could have sex in the store room after close, and I said yes.” Hunter slid another finger in alongside the first and Jemma arched up into him.

“The businessman doesn’t realize you’re there, of course. He’s a misogynist and it shows. We’ve spent all night making fun of him for it.” Hunter smirked down at her and Jemma failed at her attempt to roll her eyes. “But anyways, the bloke doesn’t even notice when you kneel down in front of me. He’s too busy talking about his second divorce to have any sort of awareness whatsoever. But I am very aware when you’re on your knees and undo my fly.”

A shiver ran up Jemma’s spine, and Hunter took that as his cue to pump his fingers faster.

“And there, behind the bar, when I’m supposed to be schmoozing this guy so I can buy you something pretty, you suck me off. I’ve been horny all night, ever since you mentioned the sex in the supply rooms, but you take your sweet damn time.” Hunter licked his lips, slowly and sensually enough Jemma knew it was meant to turn her on more. It worked, her insides spasming around Hunter’s fingers as he continued to fuck her with his hand.

“The guy is oblivious even when I’m fucking your mouth like there’s no tomorrow. I don’t think I’m going to be able to finish, not with someone else watching, but the man’s phone rings and he’s distracted for ten seconds while he decides whether or not to answer it and I blow my load.” Hunter slid a third finger inside her, his thumb returning to her clit to press against it in time with his thrusts, and Jemma’s hands curled into the sheets to keep herself anchored. 

“You swallow every last drop, because you’re my good girl.”

Jemma flew apart, her hips stuttering against Hunter’s hand as he guided her through the orgasm.

The vibrator was great, but Hunter was _excellent_.

“That was hot,” Jemma murmured, pulling Hunter down for a kiss. “You’re hot.”

“I try my best,” Hunter chuckled, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Are you up for another round?”

Jemma bit her lip. “Only if you keep calling me _Doctor_.”

Hunter’s pupils widened, and Jemma laughed at the shock on his face. 

“Yes, Doctor,” he managed to stutter out. “Anything you want, Doctor.”

\---

 _[Jemma]:_ Daisy had something come up last minute and I don’t have any plans for this weekend

 _[Jemma]:_ Are you working?

 _[Hunter]:_ Friday and Sunday but not Saturday. Why?

 _[Jemma]:_ I found plane tickets for $150

 _[Jemma]:_ And we never got to use that cock ring

 _[Hunter]:_ Buy me dinner first ;)

Jemma chuckled, shaking her head. Since their meetup at the motel, she and Hunter had been texting even more than before - it was strange now if she went a full day not hearing from him. She wasn’t quite sure what they’d call their relationship, though Jemma _was_ certain it no longer qualified as a one-night stand.

Daisy would be so disappointed in her.

 _[Jemma]:_ You’ll have to tell me where’s good

 _[Jemma]:_ I don’t want any of those tourist traps, either

 _[Hunter]:_ As if I would take you to a tourist trap

 _[Hunter]:_ Though if I ever come to Seattle I *will* be seeing the Space Needle

 _[Jemma]:_ Aren’t you afraid of heights?

 _[Hunter]:_ Shhh.

 _[Hunter]:_ Buy the plane tickets

 _[Hunter]:_ And bring your special Hunter condoms :)

 _[Jemma]:_ They’re not special

 _[Jemma]:_ You’re just the only person I’m sleeping with

The only person _worth_ sleeping with, that was. Daisy kept trying to set Jemma up with her boyfriend’s friends, but most of Daniel’s social circle were… squares. Daniel was a square, too, but it was fine because he was perfect for Daisy. The rest of the squares weren’t like that, though, and even though she and Hunter had never agreed to be exclusive Jemma still felt strange agreeing to go on a date with someone else.

 _[Hunter]:_ Are you saying I’m not special?

 _[Jemma]:_ You’re very special

 _[Jemma]:_ I don’t hand out my address to just anyone

 _[Hunter]:_ No, just boys who buy you vibrators :P

 _[Jemma]:_ I don’t know if you’d believe this, but so far there’s only been one of those

 _[Hunter]:_ Ah ha, so I am special!

 _[Jemma]:_ I already said that, Lance

 _[Jemma]:_ Now shoo. I know you’re working tonight and you need to go make yourself look pretty

 _[Hunter]:_ I always look pretty

 _[Jemma]:_ Text me when you’re home and if I’m still awake we can have some fun ;)

 _[Hunter]:_ Do you want me to go to work with a boner?

 _[Jemma]:_ Maybe

 _[Hunter]:_ Wicked woman

Jemma set her phone down and pulled up her laptop to buy her plane ticket. A part of her wondered if it was worth it to travel that far just for one night with Hunter… but another part of her knew that there was little she wouldn’t do anymore for just one night with Hunter.

That was awfully inconvenient.

\---

“Are we going to be able to make it through dinner this time without you pulling me into a back alley?” Hunter asked lowly as he and Jemma were led to a booth.

“It depends on whether or not you behave.”

“What are you going to do if I don’t? Spank me?” Hunter asked when the hostess was well out of earshot.

“If you’d like me to,” Jemma said, propping her chin on her hand. 

“I’d rather be the one spanking you,” Hunter said, mirroring her position. “Though that probably wouldn't happen often, would it, good girl?”

“ _Hunter_ ,” Jemma hissed, pressing her legs together. He knew what that phrase did to her, especially when he said it in that thick, honey-sweet voice.

“Sorry, love.” He reached across the table to take her free hand. “Just have missed you.”

Missed her? Jemma’s heart shouldn’t have stuttered in her chest, but it did anyways. “I’ve missed you too,” she said quietly.

“I’ve been thinking, Jemma…” Hunter said slowly. “I like what we have. And when we were talking earlier about me being the only guy you sleep with… I’d like to keep it that way. I don’t need to be your boyfriend or anything if that’s not what you want -”

“What if it is what I want?” Jemma interrupted. “You’re the only one I want to sleep with, but you’re also the only one I want to flirt with. And while you’re not the only person I want to talk to because that would be ridiculously unhealthy relationship-wise, I do… I do like talking to you. Even if it’s not about sex or spanking or whatever.” She snorted softly. “I even like listening to you talk about football, Hunter. Can you believe that?”

“That’s because football’s amazing,” Hunter answered, his dimples appearing when the corners of his mouth turned up. “And you’re amazing, Jemma. I mean, really amazing. Are you sure you’re single?”

“I’m not single anymore, am I?”

Hunter’s smile widened. “No. No, you’re not.”

\---

“Please tell me the handcuffs aren’t a threat to arrest me,” Hunter said in lieu of a greeting when Jemma called him for their Monday-night chat. They’d stopped sending each other weekly gifts, instead just picking something out whenever it reminded them of the other person (which, honestly, was almost weekly anyways), but they’d kept up the weekly phone calls just so they were sure to get some time to talk to each other even if the rest of the week was busy.

“They’re not,” Jemma snorted. “They’re fuzzy, Hunter. What sort of self-respecting police officer would use fuzzy handcuffs?”

“I dunno,” Hunter admitted. “So are the cuffs for me or you?”

“I figured we could see what happens whenever we’re next together,” Jemma said. “It could be… organic.”

“As organic as those awful protein bars you sent me?” Hunter snorted. “I’m sorry, Jem, but what made you think those could _possibly_ taste good?”

“Sometimes we eat things just because they’re healthy and not because they taste good,” Jemma sniffed. “And your poor liver already has enough to do without having to autocannibalize your body because you’re not keeping up with your protein intake.”

“This would be sweet if it didn’t involve the word _autocannibalize_ and those godawful planks of sin.”

“Speaking of sin,” Jemma purred, “can I convince you to spend some quality time with me?”

“Love, when do I ever need convincing?”

“I can think of a few times.”

“I was at work!”

“And yet your most detailed fantasy to date involves me blowing you under the bar.”

“Listen, Jem, if you ever saw yourself giving a blowjob you would understand why it’s a fantasy of mine,” Hunter said heatedly. “Christ, your mouth is perfect.”

“Do you miss it?” Jemma asked, padding into her bedroom and fishing her vibrator out of the bedside drawer.

“Your mouth? Of course.” Hunter sighed dramatically. “I also miss your hands. And your tits. And your arse. And have I mentioned your mouth?”

“Twenty-five more days until you’re here,” Jemma reminded him. He had offered to fly out for her birthday, and really, what else was she going to say other than _yes, please_? “If you’re a good boy maybe I’ll put my mouth on you.”

“I don’t think so,” Hunter hummed. “It’s your birthday, which means I get to eat you out all weekend.”

“It’s my birthday which means I get to choose what we do all weekend,” Jemma corrected.

“Is eating you out on the list?”

“Twice.”

“Only twice? What have I done wrong?”

“Made me horny and then started chatting instead of getting down to business,” Jemma answered. She had spent the time they were bantering getting her lower half naked and her vibrator situated, but she really, _really_ just wanted to get off.

“Whose turn is it?” 

“Yours,” Jemma said. “Do the airplane one, please.”

“Thinking about me flying to get you, hmm?” Hunter hummed. “Alright. This time when I come to see you I’m not going to go back to New York until you agree to come with me.” Jemma flicked on her vibrator and began tracing it on the soft skin of her inner thighs, teasing herself.

“Of course you’re excited to be coming back home with me. Too excited, in fact. Six hours is too long for you to go without getting off, even though it’s a red-eye home and you’re supposed to be asleep.” Jemma closed her eyes and brought the vibrator closer to her entrance, but still not quite allowing herself to touch. They’d get to that part of the story soon.

“We’re in first class, of course, and the airline gave us a blanket in case we got cold. A blanket that is conveniently covering your lap. You slide your hand under it and begin touching yourself.” Hunter’s breath hitched. “Where are you touching yourself, Jem?”

“My clit,” Jemma said, biting her lip as she directed her vibrator there. “I’m too horny to touch myself anywhere else.”

“And do I see that you’re touching yourself?”

“You don’t see it,” Jemma said, eyes sliding shut. “But you hear the first time I gasp your name. The cabin’s quiet since everyone else is sleeping, and I might as well have shouted it. You look down and see my hand under the blanket, and say…”

“Do you need the loo, Jem?”

“I don’t want to go to the bathroom, though. Everyone will know what we’re doing if we go to the bathroom.”

“Everyone is asleep, so it doesn’t matter if they know.”

“Everyone is asleep, so it doesn’t matter if I climb into your lap.”

“The flight attendants?”

“They just came by. They won’t come by again for another fifteen minutes.”

“Five minutes.”

“You really think you can get me off in five minutes?” Jemma panted, canting her hips up into her hand.

“Love, I can get you off in thirty seconds if I want to.”

“ _God_ , Hunter.” she groaned. “Fine, five minutes.”

“You climb onto my lap and I’m already hard for you. The way you say my name always makes me hard but this time it’s even worse because I know we’re not supposed to be doing this here.”

“My hand is still in between my legs so you have to unbutton your jeans yourself,” Jemma said. “And the moment your cock is free I slide onto it, all the way down to the base.”

“I nearly blow my load right there because your cunt is so wet for me -”

“But I tell you _no_ so you don’t,” Jemma finished. 

“You start bouncing on my cock, slowly at first in case someone else is still awake, but you lose your control quickly, because -”

“That feels so good,” Jemma interrupted again, moaning loudly as she pressed her vibrator more firmly against her clit. She could feel her orgasm approaching but she wasn’t willing to let go of her fantasy with Hunter yet. 

“You’re riding my cock in an airplane where anyone can see you and you don’t care,” Hunter breathed. 

“I’m such a slut,” Jemma groaned, angling her vibrator _just so_ and -

“No, Jem,” Hunter crooned. “You’re my good girl.”

She yelped as she came, and distantly she could hear Hunter grunting as he found his own release. 

“What did you think of this version?” Hunter asked. 

Jemma flipped over onto her stomach and shut off her vibrator with a flick of her thumb. “I think my favorite is still the version where I get caught giving you a handjob.”

“Really?” Hunter asked. “I would’ve thought it was the one where I came in my pants.”

Jemma sighed. “I do enjoy that one.”

“Maybe we can try a new setting next week,” Hunter suggested. “Or go back to the bar.”

“The bar always ends up with me on my knees,” Jemma laughed.

“And your office always ends up with me on mine,” Hunter said in return. Despite their rich fantasy life there were some scenarios that played out the same way every time. It was nice, though - and even if she knew how it was going to end Jemma never got less excited for how they would get there.

“Do you ever think our sex life would be less interesting if we actually got to shag each other as much as we’d like?” Jemma asked after a beat of silence.

“No,” Hunter answered without hesitation. “There are some things I can’t do to you over the phone.”

“Like?”

“I seem to recall someone enjoying being bent over my knee and spanked,” Hunter said. “And you’re abysmal at edging yourself, so I could do it for you. I still have only eaten you out enough times to count on one hand. And there’s all sorts of things we probably don’t even know we both like yet because they’re awkward to bring up.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Jemma stared up at her ceiling. “Maybe next time we’re together we can look at a list.”

“Of things we’d like to try?”

“It could be fun. Like a bucket list.”

“We could also just make a regular bucket list,” Hunter suggested. “Like the Space Needle!”

“When are you going to let go of the Space Needle?” Jemma laughed.

“When you take me there!”

“Twenty-five days,” Jemma promised. “And then I’ll take you to see the Space Needle. And any other awful tourist trap you want.”

“You’re the best, Jemma.”

\---

The look on Hunter’s face when he saw her in the arrivals lobby was more than worth the hassle of navigating the SeaTac parking garage. He opened his arms, beaming, and Jemma ran into them, burying her face into the side of his neck and breathing in deeply. 

“I didn’t know you were picking me up,” Hunter murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“I’m surprised!” Hunter told her through a laugh. “And happy. Really, very happy.”

“I am too.” Jemma pulled him down for a proper kiss, eyes slipping shut as she relearned the curve of Hunter’s mouth against hers. “I missed you.”

“And I missed you.” Hunter ran a hand through her hair. “Impossibly much for someone I spoke to last night.”

“It’s different having you here,” Jemma said. “I always forget how you smell when you’re gone.”

“Well you’ve got the next three days to sniff me as much as you want.” Hunter pecked her lips again. “Baggage claim, milady?”

They collected his bags and departed from the airport. Jemma didn’t think she stopped touching Hunter once on the journey to her apartment - even when she was driving she had a hand on his, just to assure herself he was still there.

“Welcome ho- oh!” Jemma found herself pressed against the door of her apartment, Hunter’s mouth on hers. Jemma sank into the kiss, entire body melting into Hunter’s. It was the kind of kiss not appropriate for an airport, but one she’d desperately needed without even realizing she’d needed it.

“Tell me, Jemma,” Hunter murmured. “When you said me eating you out is on the schedule twice, is that a minimum or a maximum?”

“M-minimum,” Jemma stuttered. She could already see where this was going and had no desire at all to stop it.

“That door soundproof?”

“No,” she breathed as Hunter stripped her out of her pants and panties with efficient movements. “But I can be quiet.”

“What if I don’t want you to be?” he grinned, kneeling in front of her.

“Lance,” Jemma said, licking her lips. “You really don’t have to -”

“I know I don’t have to do jack,” Hunter said, trailing his hands up the insides of her naked thighs. “But I want to. So unless you don’t want me to -”

“Oh, I want you to,” Jemma said. “I just thought maybe you’d put your things down first.”

“My things are down,” Hunter answered, gesturing to the suitcase he had dropped by the door. 

“I just meant -”

Jemma didn’t have time to finish her sentence before Hunter was licking a stripe up her thigh, causing her mind to go utterly blank. 

“God, Jem, you smell like heaven,” Hunter mumbled, peppering kisses along the insides of her thighs. “Bet you taste like it, too.”

“I wouldn’t know,” she said shakily.

Hunter scoffed softly. “Can I taste you?”

“You can do whatever you’d like to me,” she answered honestly. Hunter always managed to catch her off guard when they were together, but in the best way. 

“Oh, love, you’re going to regret saying that.”

“I’m no- _not_ ,” Jemma gasped as he flicked her tongue across her clit and dragged it through her folds. She widened her stance slightly so Hunter had more room to work and he hummed against her skin, sending vibrations tingling all the way to her toes.

“More,” she gasped as Hunter lapped at her cunt. “More, please.” 

Hunter obliged, sucking her clit between his lips and bringing his hands up to her trembling thighs. With him bracing her against the door Jemma was able to push harder into his mouth, creating all sorts of exquisite sensations she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt before. His tongue was sure but soft as it danced across her burning skin, touching her everywhere she needed and everywhere she wanted, too.

“Hunter,” Jemma panted, her entire body throbbing. “ _More_.” His tongue was everywhere she needed but it also wasn’t _enough_. Luckily Hunter seemed to understand, and he swirled his tongue around her clit. Jemma’s fist banged against the door as she thrust her hips up into his face, trying desperately to find the last push she needed to finish.

Hunter hummed again, flicking his tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves in time with her ragged pants.

“L… _Lance_!” Jemma shrieked as finally, blessedly, she fell apart, her knees buckling as her orgasm shook through her. Hunter managed to keep her upright until she was able to hold herself up again, and Jemma looked down at him with wide eyes. 

“That was…”

“Good?”

“I think that might be a bit of an understatement.” Jemma tugged on his hair until he got the message to stand up, and she blushed when she saw his mouth and stubble were glistening with her wetness. 

“I needed to prove something.”

“What?” Jemma asked. “That you could make me cum with oral?” He hadn’t managed it the first time he’d tried, but Jemma didn’t realize he was still holding onto that failure - especially because while she hadn't finished on his mouth, she _had_ gotten to orgasm. Several times, in fact.

“Something like that.”

“I always knew you’d be able to,” Jemma said, wrapping her arms around Hunter’s neck and pulling him down for a close-mouthed kiss. “You’re very persistent.”

“That means a lot, coming from you.”

“What?” Jemma spluttered. “Coming from _me_?”

“Love, you’re the one of the most stubborn people I know.” Hunter gazed down at her, and there was too much adoration in his eyes for him to have meant the stubbornness as a bad thing. “I’m only stubborn when it comes to making you feel good.”

“Well you’ve succeeded,” Jemma said. “Now, we should probably get cleaned up. I told you we’re having dinner with Daisy, correct?”

“You did,” Hunter said. “Thanks for letting me have my fun first.”

“I needed it too,” Jemma admitted. “Otherwise we might have gotten a bit too carried away for Daisy’s comfort.”

“She has a boyfriend, she knows how these things are.”

“Honestly, I’m not entirely convinced she and Daniel have sex.”

“Oh, _that’s_ a story waiting to be told.”

“I’ll tell you in the shower.”

“Love, if we’re showering together, we’re not going to be talking about someone else’s sex life.”

It turned out Hunter was right.

\---

 _[Jemma]:_ Happy birthday, birthday boy!!!

 _[Jemma]:_ Sorry I couldn’t make it out to see you :(

 _[Hunter]:_ I know it’s a busy time of year for you, it’s no problem

 _[Hunter]:_ You’re still planning on coming for Christmas?

 _[Jemma]:_ Of course!

 _[Jemma]:_ But first… your birthday present.

Jemma couldn’t stop the blush from creeping up her cheeks when she selected the photos from her phone’s photo album and sent them off to Hunter, one by one. Doing a photoshoot in the Liverpool lingerie had felt ridiculous, and sending them to Hunter felt even _more_ ridiculous, but she couldn’t think of a better birthday gift than that - and the few other things she had sent Hunter that were supposedly arriving at his apartment later that day.

 _[Hunter]:_ Jemma

 _[Hunter]:_ I’m in public

 _[Jemma]:_ Oops?

 _[Hunter]:_ God, you’re an absolute minx

 _[Hunter]:_ Do you know how hard it is to find a public bathroom in New York?

 _[Hunter]:_ I’ve never needed a wank more in my life

 _[Jemma]:_ Maybe if you’re a good boy you’ll get to see them in person over Christmas

 _[Hunter]:_ Alright, *now* I’ve never needed a wank more in my life

 _[Jemma]:_ Send me a video? 

_[Hunter]:_ I shouldn’t

 _[Hunter]:_ Not when you’re so naughty

 _[Jemma]:_ What if I promise to send you one back?

 _[Hunter]:_ It’s my birthday, you should be sending me videos anyways

 _[Jemma]:_ You’re not wrong.

She kept teasing Hunter throughout her work day, checking her phone in between emails and running down to the lab to check on her experiments. She was just packing up for the day when her phone pinged with a video attachment.

She didn’t need to open it to know what it was.

 _[Jemma]:_ Do you want me to send you my video from my office or my bedroom?

 _[Hunter]:_ Somebody’s naughty

 _[Jemma]:_ I’m a very good girl

 _[Jemma]:_ But only for you

 _[Hunter]:_ Office, please.

Jemma walked over to her door and locked it, flicking off her light as well. If no one knew she was here, no one would disturb her.

 _[Jemma]:_ You’re lucky I wore a skirt today

 _[Hunter]:_ If I had my way you wouldn’t be wearing anything at all

 _[Jemma]:_ Very funny.

 _[Hunter]_ : Touch yourself, Jemma

Jemma set her camera up carefully, wheeling her office chair back from her desk so the most interesting part of her would be in frame. She hit the record button and then situated herself so her legs were slung over either arm of her chair, showing her underwear off to the camera.

“This is all for you,” she whispered as she trailed a finger up the crotch of her panties. “I’m going to touch myself, and it’ll be all for you.” She pushed her panties to the side so she could slide her fingers into her channel. “And because I’m a good girl, I won’t even cum until you tell me to.”

There was the matter that, because this was a video, Hunter wouldn’t ever be able to tell her to finish, but that was part of the point. She never had been good at actually cumming on command, though Hunter was trying valiantly to change that. It was fun, most of the time, but now Jemma didn’t want to focus on control - she just wanted to focus on teasing her boyfriend.

Performing for Hunter was a different sort of pleasure than just getting herself off. For one thing, she couldn’t go nearly as fast as she would normally; that wouldn’t be fun for either of them. She had to savor every movement, every thrust of her fingers and angle of her wrists. Jemma continued sliding her fingers at a slow, teasing pace, separating them every so often to stretch herself wider.

She continued, unhurried, until the tiniest sparks of pleasure began to nip at her. 

“I’m going to touch my clit now,” she announced, still whispering, to the camera. She skimmed her thumb across the bundle of nerves, the muscles in her thighs tensing. Part of Jemma wanted to just go to town on herself - Hunter would enjoy it either way, after all - but she took in a steady breath and forced herself not to speed up. 

“I hope you’re comfortable,” Jemma murmured. “Because I’m going to be here for a while.”

\---

The springs on the mattress creaked when Jemma slammed into it, gasping for breath.

“Who’s a good girl?” Hunter asked, continuing to circle her clit at the same furious pace he had started a minute earlier when Jemma had still been pressed against the wall.

“M-me,” Jemma moaned, grinding her hips up into Hunter’s hand.

“Are you sure?” he panted, sliding his teeth down her neck and across her collarbones. “Do good girls cum before they’re told, Jemma?”

“No,” Jemma moaned. “I didn’t -”

“Do good girls _lie_ , Jemma?” Hunter asked, nipping at the tender underside of her breast. Jemma writhed under his mouth and his hand, grappling desperately for some semblance of control but finding none. 

“No, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, please, Hunter -”

“Won’t do what again?” Hunter sucked a nipple into his mouth, scraping his teeth against it in a manner that edged more on pain than pleasure but sent a ripple of heat through Jemma’s body regardless. “Won’t cum again? Because love, you’re going to cum on my hand whether you want to or not.” As if you prove his point Hunter pressed his thumb against her clit even more firmly. Jemma opened her mouth but no sound came out, pleasure and overstimulation warring in her brain. 

“Please,” Jemma gulped when she found her voice again. “Please, please, oh, _please_!”

The orgasm slammed into her like a tidal wave, and for a terrifying moment Jemma genuinely believed it would drown her. She gasped for breath, but even as she was trying desperately to suck in more air Hunter was abusing her clit. Another wave crashed over her, and another, and another, until Jemma didn’t know which way was up and which was down or _what_ was happening to her. Everything was shades of blue and black and white. A lot of white, actually, more white than the other colors, though she couldn’t say why.

Jemma tried to swallow and found her throat was raw from screaming - when had she started screaming? She moved and her body ached like she had been beaten, even though all she had done was cum… and cum, and cum, and cum.

“You with me?” Hunter whispered. It took Jemma a moment to register she wasn’t face-up on the bed any longer; she was in Hunter’s lap, safe in the circle of his arms.

“Yes,” she said, resting her head against his shoulder. 

“Was that what you wanted?” he asked, voice edged with worry.

“Yes,” Jemma croaked. Hunter reached over to the bedside table, and Jemma was glad they’d had the foresight to leave a water bottle there. He passed it to her and she gulped it down greedily, until her throat didn’t feel as scratchy. Hunter took the bottle back from her, screwing on the cap with the coordination Jemma still lacked.

“No one’s ever actually done it when I asked,” she admitted. “Because it is so…”

“Intense?” Hunter suggested when she couldn’t come up with a word. Jemma nodded.

“How many?” Jemma asked after the conversation lulled.

“I counted eight, but it might’ve been nine. I couldn’t tell on the last one if you were orgasming or just giving up.”

“ _Eight_?” Jemma repeated. When she’d asked Hunter to try to force her to orgasm, she’d expected one or two - not _eight_. No wonder she felt so wrung out.

“It’s a good thing my neighbors aren’t around tonight,” Hunter added, nuzzling into her cheek. “I’ve never heard you scream so loud.”

“When do I get you to scream?” Jemma asked, pouting. Hunter’s willingness to be vocal during sex had been one of the first things that attracted her to him, but she still hadn’t managed to make him full-on shout.

“Sometime when you’re not sex-drunk,” Hunter answered. “You need sleep.”

“I want more cuddles,” Jemma insisted, burrowing herself further into Hunter’s lap.

“Cuddles, then sleep. Tomorrow we can talk about making me scream.”

\---

Jemma woke up to a loud, insistent knocking on her apartment door. She groaned, rolling out of bed and padding to the door so she could peek through the peephole and see who was bothering her at the godforsaken hour of nine o’clock on a Saturday. 

A moment later she had the door wrenched open and her arms around the solid body of one Lance Hunter.

“Hello to you too,” Hunter said as he hugged her in return.

“What are you doing here?!” Jemma exclaimed, stepping back just long enough to look him in the face before pulling him into another tight hug.

“Surprising you?” Hunter half-said, half-asked. “If that’s alright?”

“I - yes, it’s alright,” Jemma mumbled into his shirt. She inhaled deeply, the now-familiar scent fanning away the last of the godliness from sleep. “Please tell me you didn’t just come because of last night.” She’d called him in tears because nothing at work was going right, and while he’d been able to talk her off the ledge Jemma would feel absolutely ridiculous if he had been worried enough about her to fly across the country because of it.

“It’s not,” Hunter said, running his fingers through her hair. “I already had this planned. The breakdown was just well-timed.”

“I’m glad my breakdown was convenient for you,” Jemma huffed.

“I always forget you’re not a morning person,” Hunter chuckled, continuing to comb through her hair. “Can I come in?”

“Oh, right.” Jemma kicked the door to her apartment back open, dragging Hunter inside. The last time she’d done the same thing he’d ended up on his knees in front of her, but honestly, that was the last thing Jemma wanted. She just wanted to keep hugging him, for the rest of the day or possibly forever.

“I’m sorry you had a bad day, Jem,” Hunter said, rubbing soothing circles onto her back while she clung to him. “And I’m sorry I’m not always here to help you through it.”

“You were here in all of the ways that mattered,” Jemma murmured. When he’d last visited Hunter had purposefully left behind a sweatshirt of his, and that was what Jemma was wearing now. It was soft and oversized and most importantly, it was Hunter’s and it felt like hugging him even when she couldn’t actually hug him. Of course the actual hug was a million times better, but Jemma wasn’t going to complain. And aside from the sweatshirt, Hunter had been there by listening to her cry on the phone for an embarrassingly long amount of time and telling her, repeatedly, that this wasn’t the end of the world.

“I know. But if I hadn’t already had plans to be out here…” Hunter trailed off, pulling her in closer. 

They stood in the entrance for a long, long while. Jemma’s legs had gone numb by the time she pulled away from Hunter, and when he released his hold on her she missed the weight of his arms.

“Can I make you breakfast?” Hunter asked, brushing her hair back from her face. Goodness, she must look a mess.

“I - if you’d like,” Jemma stuttered. “I should probably…” she said, gesturing to herself. Now that she had gotten over the shock of seeing him Jemma had enough presence of mind to realize he was fully-dressed and well groomed and she had quite literally rolled out of bed to answer the door.

“Take your time,” Hunter said. “I like sleepy Jemma.”

Jemma blushed. “Thank you.” She didn’t know what to say other than that.

“Anything for you, love.” Hunter turned to the kitchen while Jemma made her way to her bedroom to change and freshen up. A bonus of Hunter being here, Jemma thought as she stripped off her sweatshirt, was that he could make his clothing smell like him again. 

“I was thinking,” Jemma said when she returned to the kitchen, feeling marginally more put-together.

“Always dangerous,” Hunter teased from the stove. It looked like he had found the eggs in her refrigerator, and apparently some bacon as well. Jemma hoped he had checked the expiration date, since she couldn’t promise any bacon in her fridge wasn’t just from the last time he had visited.

“There were some tourist traps we missed the last time you were here,” Jemma said, ignoring his comment. 

“If that’s what you want to do, love,” Hunter said, flipping the omelette he was making with one expert flick of his wrist. “You know I’m yours.”

\---

“Daisy’s pregnant,” Jemma said, keeping up with her and Hunter’s tradition of not bothering to say hello when they did their Monday calls.

“With Daniel’s baby?”

“She didn’t specify who the father was but I can’t imagine who else’s it would be,” Jemma answered.

“I thought you said they didn’t have sex?”

“I said I wasn’t _sure_ they had sex. And since I’m more ready to believe they do have sex than that this was an immaculate conception…” Really, Jemma hadn’t ever believed Daisy and Daniel weren’t having sex - it was just strange to think of occasionally-old-fashioned Daniel actually taking his clothes off. Not that Jemma spent much time thinking about Daniel getting naked, since he was her best friend’s boyfriend. She’d rather think about her own boyfriend naked, thank you very much.

“Damn. How’s she taking it?”

Jemma shrugged before realizing Hunter couldn’t see her. “About as well as anyone can take it, I’d say. She and Daniel were talking about getting married anyways, and I think this is just speeding up their timeline.”

“At least he’s not going to ditch her,” Hunter said, tutting softly. “That would suck.”

“It would,” Jemma agreed. She let a long pause hang in the air before asking, “Do you want kids?”

As expected, Hunter didn’t have an immediate answer. “One day, I guess,” he said eventually. “I wouldn’t feel unfulfilled if I never got to be a dad, but if it happened I would be happy about it.”

“I think that’s where I’m at, too.” Jemma sat down on her bed with a huff. “I’m not going to go trying to make a baby any time soon, but I wouldn’t be upset if I woke up tomorrow and found out I was pregnant.”

“I would be!” Hunter exclaimed.

“What?” Jemma’s heart sank.

“It’s been a lot longer than a month since you and I have done the deed, Jem. And if anyone gets to knock you up it’s going to be me.”

The vice around her chest loosened. “I meant hypothetically. Of course if I got pregnant it would be your child.”

“It’d be a lot more complicated for us than for Daisy and Daniel,” Hunter said. “Long distance relationships and pregnancy don’t mix.”

“They don’t.” Jemma bit her lip. “But what if we weren’t long distance?”

“Pardon?”

“I… I applied for a teaching position at Mount Sinai,” Jemma admitted. “I have an interview in two weeks, so I’ll be in the city for the weekend.”

“I - Jem, that’s amazing!” Hunter spluttered. “When were you going to tell me?!”

“I just got the offer on Friday,” she said. “I needed the weekend to think it over for myself before I told someone else.”

“Yeah, of course.” Hunter exhaled into the phone. “Wow. And if you got the job -?”

“I’d move to New York,” Jemma said. “The position is for associate professor, so I wouldn’t have tenure yet and probably wouldn’t pay very well, but…”

“But you could live with me and save on rent,” Hunter said earnestly. “And we’d get to be in the same time zone.”

“More than just the same time zone,” Jemma corrected. “The same city. The same flat.”

“The same bedroom.”

“Yes,” Jemma agreed. “There’s no guarantee I’d get the job, it’s a very prestigious school and I don’t have much teaching experience, and I don’t want to get your hopes up, but -”

“Hey,” Hunter cut her off before she could anxiety spiral any further. “If nothing else we get another weekend together.”

“And they’re paying for my flight,” Jemma said, voice wobbly. 

“Even better!”

“I just…” Jemma sighed. “I miss you. All the time.”

“I miss you too,” Hunter whispered. “Maybe when you’re here for your interview, we can talk about other options.”

“Other options?” Jemma asked hopefully.

“Just a few things I’ve got knocking around. Nothing concrete.”

Jemma bit her lip to keep from asking more questions. Hunter would tell her when he was ready. 

The oven began to beep and Jemma sighed. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Go eat. And tell Daisy and Daniel congratulations from me.”

“Of course.” Jemma paused, gathering her thoughts. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Jem. Have a good dinner and sweet dreams.”

\---

“So,” Jemma said as she took the dishes from dinner over to Hunter’s sink. “What are the other options?”

“Did the interview really go that poorly?” Hunter asked, joining her at the sink.

Jemma shook her head. Her interview with the head of Mount Sinai’s biochemistry department had gone much more smoothly than she could’ve hoped. The professor who they were looking to replace taught a class in Jemma’s thesis area, which already put her as a front-runner for the job. Her research had been more of a boon than she’d thought, and no one seemed to expect extensive teaching experience from someone her age. Jemma didn’t want to get her hopes up too high, but she thought she had a good chance of landing the job.

Still, she wanted to know what else Hunter had been thinking about.

“I’ve been looking at jobs in Seattle,” Hunter confessed. “Bartending was never supposed to be a full-time gig, and it only became that way because a swanky hotel in an expensive city makes me a killing in tips.”

“Do you want a job that uses your degree?” Jemma asked, turning on the water to submerge the dirty dishes.

“I wouldn’t mind it.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “And honestly, bartending isn’t as fun when I can’t flirt with the patrons.”

“You can flirt with them,” Jemma said, adding a squirt of dish soap to the water. “Just not take anyone home.”

“I told you, I don’t make a habit of that.”

“I know.” Jemma shut the tap off and relaxed back into Hunter’s embrace. “If I don’t get the job at Sinai, you would move?”

“I would,” Hunter confirmed. “If you get a no, I’ll start properly looking for jobs in Seattle. Not just poking around. So either way we end up on the same coast.”

“You could move in with me,” Jemma offered. “Since I’d be moving in with you if I came over here, it only seems fair.”

“Fair doesn’t matter so much as what you’re comfortable with,” Hunter said, squeezing her. “I’m sure I can find a place to squat for a bit.”

“Why wouldn’t I be comfortable with you living with me?” Jemma asked. “We’ve done it for the weekend.” Of course Jemma wasn’t so delusional as to believe living with someone for three days was nearly the same as living with them full-time and she knew there would be growing pains no matter whose apartment they ended up staying at, but this felt like the natural path forward.

“Something something I’m a stalker something something?” Hunter chuckled, nibbling at her ear. “I dunno, Jem. I just don’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for.”

“I am not being pushed,” Jemma asserted. “I am asking you, of my own free will, to move in with me if you come to Seattle full-time.”

“Then I would happily live with you, Doctor Simmons.” Hunter pressed one more kiss to her ear. “As long as you’ll actually do the dishes when we live together instead of just standing in front of the sink.”

“They’re soaking!”

“Uh huh.”

\---

“Is this the last of it?” Hunter asked as he set down the stack of cardboard boxes he was holding.

“Yes,” Jemma answered, sweeping her hair back from her face. “Can you get that one with the blue tape? B is for blue is for biological.”

“...Biological?” Hunter repeated, shuffling the boxes around so that the one with blue tape was on top, as she’d asked. “Jemma, are you bringing bioweapons into my apartment?”

“They’re _seeds_ ,” Jemma huffed in response, grabbing the box cutter and opening the lid to show the admittedly excessive volume of seed packets she had packed. Seattle had some amazing varieties of plants she didn’t want to leave behind for good, so of course Jemma had to find a way to bring them with her. There were other parts of her home that weren’t going to be as easy to bring along, like her friends, so Jemma was going to take what she could get.

“You’re going to make my apartment look like a jungle,” Hunter said, shaking his head fondly. “How many pots do you reckon you’ll need? There’s a hardware store a few blocks away that might have some.”

“I already have some picked out to order,” Jemma answered. She’d found a pot set that was twenty different animals, all in a simplistic pastel color scheme and minimalist style. She’d considered purchasing them so her plants would be ready to pot when she moved, but decided Hunter would be alarmed if such a big package arrived on his step without any warning or explanation.

“Of course you do,” Hunter said fondly. “Come on, love, I think it’s more important that we find your pajamas than your potted plants.”

“I won’t be wearing any pajamas,” Jemma informed him, padding around the towers of boxes so she could cuddle up close to Hunter. “It’s our first night as a no-longer-long-distance couple and we are going to spend it properly.”

“By properly do you mean naked in a bed?”

“What else could I possibly mean?” she asked, propping her chin on her chest so she could peer up at him.

“I don’t know, Jem. Sometimes I don’t understand what’s going on in that head of yours.” Hunter smiled. “But I’m not objecting to your plan.”

“Good. First we have to order some carryout, though.”

“If we _have_ to…” Hunter laughed, bending down to brush a quick kiss across her lips. “I’m glad you’re here, Jemma,” he said, apropos of nothing. Other than her presence, that was.

“I’m glad I’m here, too,” she said. Jemma stood on her tiptoes so she could give Hunter another, proper kiss. It was strange to believe that all of this had almost not happened. If she hadn’t had the courage in the bar that night to go through with her plan, if _Hunter_ hadn’t had the courage to leave her his number… where would she be?

Jemma didn’t know.

She did know, however, that she was rubbish at one-night stands.


End file.
